The Lion and The Snake
by kristophalexander
Summary: When a lion loves a snake, the lion will show unwavering loyalty and everlasting love. But a snake remains a snake, and will only love should the affection serve its goals. Or so the saying goes, by any means. M for language, violence, sexual themes
1. Chapter 1

It was uncharacteristically rainy. It had been for the last several days. Frigga watches with her hands braced on the window sill as the wind races through the trees, making the leaves dance among the rain. With a bit of sadness in her thoughts, she reflects on how the rain truly embodies her life for nearly ten months that have past.

Her husband absent due to war, of course Frigga had been miserable. Understandably so. No one would guilt her for this, for many other wives too felt the woe of missing lovers. But Frigga can't help but chide herself for this. She should hold the Queen's composure; the Queen's strength. And strong she had been, for she would not be weak for her newborn. Though the tidings of war so soon after birth had been an unlucky one. She had the help of maids and servants, but still she felt like she had raised her son quite alone during most of the last year. Frigga sighs, running her hands through her hair and sighing. Weakness is not becoming of a Queen, no. Nor of a mother, for her son looks up to her even now. But the babe sleeps in a room attended by her most trusted maid, and the public knows nothing of a custom that is to be broken on this night.

As the sky grows dark and the storm grows stronger, Frigga comforts herself with the knowledge that of this night, she need not be a mother or a Queen. She just has to be a wife.

But even this comfort comes with self-inflicted scorn, for she cannot say she loathes to be a Queen or a mother when it is in fact the opposite. She was happy to be a symbol of hope for the people of Asgard for the past ten months, even though she felt little. The faith of the people gave her great outlook. For certainty, her son did bring her peace and happiness at well. It included restless nights and long hours, and she certainly gave thanks to her seemingly infinite amount of patience, but her newborn son brought much sunshine in her life. It was reflected in his smile and his wheat colored hair. But it was akin to holding a candle in a rainstorm. Beautiful light but little amount enough to truly count. But her King was returning; the darkness would fade.

By tradition, the men of war were not to be reunited with their families until the public ceremonies tomorrow. It brought much joy to the people to see a husband reunited with his wife, a father reunited with his family. Most of all, it brought much happiness to see a King reunited with his Queen. To see the royals gaze with elation, to run into each others arms, was indeed a sight to see. But eight centuries and two wars ago, Odin had broke this sacred custom by visiting Frigga a night before the reunion so that he may lose composure in privacy, for it is a highly emotional ordeal to see the ones you love after so long away, and the royals must hold at least some composure in front of the public.

Such strict social limitations did Frigga carry on her shoulders. She was to cry, but not to sob. To smile, but not to laugh with giddiness. To embrace, but not too intimately. So many lines she had to toe around. She was very thankful that Odin had broke this custom, and in turn created this new one, for a few hours with her husband did give comfort to her and she was always able to handle the public reunion with an easier smile.

She also knew it did her husband well to see her in this sense of privacy, away from the public eye, before the grand ceremonies. A soldier carries a piece of the war home with him, in both demeanor and in the palace of their eyes. This night, Frigga can take some of the weight off of him. Not entirely, of course, because to break such an ancient tradition is a scandal, so Odin and Frigga did put limitations on this forbidden visit. He was only offered meager food and denied the spoils of war (that of wine, meat, and the intimacy of his wife). They were to speak in this poorly lit and heated room, similar to that of a stable. But still, the opportunity to speak of his horrors and of their love for each other was a precious one.

Frigga reaches out of the window slightly so that she might feel the rain drops on the palm of her hand. The coolness against her skin is welcoming. It serves almost as a reminder of the time, that the opportunity to see her love after months apart isn't but a dream. That is he returning home and to her once more. She shuts her eyes, savoring this realization.

With a knock on the door, the moment is forgotten, for it is time to see her King.

She turns, eagerly staring so that she might gaze upon the love of her life. He enters.

Odin looked significantly worse for the wear, but not as terrible as she had seen him before. No blood matted his hair, little dirt smeared on his face. He looked exhausted, but not as if he might fall over. Yet, when he looked upon his beloved's face, it was as if he were seeing the sun after months of winter.

"Frigga," He whispers, hungrily drinking her image in. "My Queen."

They stare at each other for a long moment, for staring is all they have. There is no embrace, no kissing, no other pleasures of the flesh to be had. Not of this night. But tomorrow, after the ceremonies and the feast to follow, they would retire to their chambers and enjoy each others in ways they could only imagine.

It is only after a long moment that Frigga realizes Odin holds a bundle in his arm and for a moment, she thinks it is a large loaf of bread. But it is a bundle of furs and pelts, with something wrapped in the middle.

"What is that you hold there, my dearest?" She asks. "Not a trophy of your battles, is it?"

Odin smiles softly, his cheeks warming as an all-too-familiar guilty look passes over his face.

"Only the most precious jewel that war could offer me," He says in a low voice and steps further into the room. "Look at him, my darling."

As Frigga steps towards her husband, she realizes with a jolt of shock that he holds a sleeping infant in his arms, wrapped in the furs of bears and wolves. It has pink cheeks like rose petals and ink black hair, thin and fine against his fair skin.

"From what cradle did you rob this babe?" Frigga asks, partially in jest but also in horror.

"I robbed it from the cradle of an all too early death," Odin responds gravely. Frigga quickly looks up at her husband before looking back down at the infant.

"You joke," She says in a hushed voice, reaching to stroke the cheek of the baby. "With a face like that? A mother is sure to be missing him."

"For his beauty? I think not," Odin says with a frown. "Twis his beauty that cast him out in the snow, nearly to send him to an icy tomb."

Frigga notices the references to winter and she drops her hand, melting Odin's gaze and feeling a pit of dread in her stomach. Odin's look carries a storm not unlike the one outside.

"Oh, sweet love of mine, what have you done?" Frigga asks, her eyes darting between her husband and the sleeping babe in his arms. Odin meets her level gaze with an iron look of his own.

"I've done nothing to this child but she compassion," He says. "The child was cast out by the Frost Giants, due to his size and delicate features, I suspect. I found him weeping in the snow. Had I not taken him and wrapped him in my robes, I'm certain he would have frozen."

Frigga stares at the child with disbelief and a slight twinge of disgust.

"This is a Frost Giant?" She asks. Odin nods.

"Aye, but a runt of one." He says.

"A runt he may be, but a giant he still remains," She says quietly. "What are we to do with this stolen child?"

"Abandoned!" Odin corrects her sharply. "Not stolen!"

Frigga inclines her head slightly, softening her gaze toward the child.

"What is your proposal?" She whispers. "Do we find a family to take him in?"

"Nay, I should say he already has one," As Odin says this, Frigga looks up and sees adoration in his expression toward the child. It makes her chest feel like its tightening, her heart turning to ice.

"You left four days after the birth of your son," She says, her voice stern. "And you want to add another?"

Odin sighs heavily, moving to sit at the bench near the window. He adjusts his hold on the baby, his movements gentle. He reaches forward, gripping the wooden pitcher on the table in front of him and pouring himself a glass of water.

"I did not go to battle with the aim of gaining a son," He says quietly, lifting the cup to his lips and taking a drink. "Nor did I save this child to try and fill the void that leaving you and Thor created. What am I to say? I found a child. I saved him, clothed him, fed him. Gracious, I named him. I've cared for this child, near to the degree that I felt when I first gazed upon my own son. I can't help but feel charged with the duty to care for him as a father would, as his father would if he hadn't abandoned him."

Frigga pauses and then sits next to Odin on the bench. She stares out into the stormy night for a moment before turning and extending her arms for the baby. Odin, gently but carefully, hands him over. The Queen cradles him, brushing her fingers across his forehead and touching the tip of his nose.

"He has a name?" She asks.

"It is Loki," Odin replies. He watches his wife hold their hopefully adoptive son. The sight pleases him to no end, and it feels like his heart swells in his chest.

"You ask much of me," Frigga sighs. "But even as he sleeps, the child has convinced me more than you did."

She looks up to find Odin beaming at her and she fights it hard to bite down a smile of her own.

"I will try," She says. "This is all I can offer."

Odin nods respectfully.

"You'll need no more, for the child is charismatic even more so when he is awake. You will see," He replies. Frigga laughs, but turns her gaze back toward the child. Her gaze soften and she grows troubled.

"He looks no more than a few weeks old," She muses.

"I suspect he can't be older than that," Odin agrees. "He was cast out on the day of his birth, I imagine."

Frigga makes a noise of discontent, for that anyone could cast out a babe into the snow was a distressing thought to her. Such an act could only be done by those with the blackest of hearts. She touches Loki's soft hair once more.

"So young," She murmurs. "But at the same time, too old. Thor was four days old when you left. How do you expect people to believe that he is our natural born son?"

"When people see him, they will see no more than the results of a husband reluctant to leave his wife's bed for battle. They will be told that the child was born earlier than expected, and that your silence throughout your pregnancy and the birth was due to reluctance to celebrate life when you were unsure that your husband would return home to you," Odin touches his wife's shoulder once more. Frigga closes her eyes, nodding slightly.

"And I am to introduce him to the people, and to you, at the ceremonies tomorrow," She nods. Odin touches his wife's arm.

"No one will question us," He says reassuringly.

"Such a large fiction to carry," Frigga sighs.

"The benefit of being seen as trustworthy is that no one would dare believe that we would utter a lie," Odin quietly murmurs. "If they say otherwise, we shall see how easily their tongues will wag once I'm through with them."

They share a quiet and intimate moment as they stare down at their new son.

"Thor will be pleased to have a playmate," Frigga admits. "The boy is full of life and sunshine. He is strong."

"Loki can easily step up to the challenge his older brother shall present," Odin smiles fondly. "A runt of a giant is still a giant, after all."

"No," Frigga murmurs. "No, I think not. He will be strong, to be sure, but not in the same way, I think."

"Whatever do you mean?" Odin asks.

"A lion is strong. It is brave, courageous, and noble. It charges into action. It protects the one it loves." Frigga says. "But a snake is equally strong, for it is cunning, thinking through obstacles rather than charging through them. It is quiet, but has a deadly bite."

She rocks the sleeping child in her arms ever so slightly.

"Dearest Thor is a lion," She murmurs. "But I believe Loki shall be a serpent."


	2. Chapter 2

"Brother, put down your books!" Thor grips the spine of Loki's book from his hand, yanking it away and throwing it across the table away from him. They are in the library, and sun shines amiably through the large cathedral-like windows. Loki stares up his brother petulantly. He had been eager to come to the library soon as dawn broke, for it was nearing Thor's tenth birthday and the palace had been quite busy with activity. Both to prepare for the large party, and also in the way that the tongues wag. For Thor being so popular, even approaching the age of ten, many significant people in Asgard would be coming to the palace. A prince's birthday is as high society event as any other, even more so because Thor loved grandeur events.

"What excites you so?" Loki asks, reaching for the book and closing it properly. "It must be quite a thing for you to venture where there are books with only words and no pictures. Doesn't it make you yawn to set foot in here?"

"Aye, brother, for I desire my tongue to be gold, not silver" Thor says. "Golden like honey, which draws in the birds. Silver reflects the light, blinding those who dare look at it. What say that of you, Loki?"

Loki can't help the grin he bares at his brother.

"I say that you often see weapons with silver, for silver is more deadly than gold. Gold is the cowards currency, whereas silver can buy anything at any price. What say you, soft and malleable man of gold?" Loki asks with a smirk.

"Little brother, I have picked up a book once upon a time," Thor laughs. "And I can tell you that to be malleable is to withstand much pressure without cracking. I thank you for the compliment, and I tell you to stop this boring hobby of yours. Books will be here at dusk, but the good weather won't."

"Perhaps, but my patience will be here if I am left alone," Loki says. "What games are we to play, brother? A game of skill in which we are evenly matched? None exist. You can run faster than me, lift the heavier rocks. I am your intellectual superior. Unless you suggest hide-and-seek...?"

"We will not play that silly game!" Thor objects.

"You do not like it only because you lose every time," Loki laughs.

"Is there any other reason to despise something?" Thor asks, perking his eyebrows up. "Besides, you cheat with that game, using your illusions to your advantage."

"Of course I use them to my advantage, they're _my _illusions," Loki says with a cackle. "But you dodge the question, brother. With what game do you require me to play?"

"Fandral and Sif have found a flag," Thor says, crossing his arms. "Teams are being selected for Capture the Flag."

"Ah, and I am to even out the teams?" Loki says with a frown.

"Nonsense. Sif insisted it be 2 against one, but I wanted you to play," Thor says. "With my brawn and your wit, we will crush them."

"Brother, to have us on the same team against them would be near cheating," Loki says reproachfully, but a devilish grin crosses his face. "Of which I heartily approve. Let's play."

As they leave the library together, Thor claps his hand across Loki's back.

"Sometimes I think you influence me too much," Thor says mischievously.

"With your attitude, brother, I daresay you need my influence." Loki responds with a laugh.

::::

When Thor hears his brother give a shout, he comes running through the forest.

Very rarely does Loki ever call his brother during their games, for they work together so seamlessly that there is no need to. Loki has only called upon his brother once, when they were both seven, for Loki had slipped upon the rocks near the river and split a gash in his face. The blood had frightened him desperately. But that was several years ago, and this being the only incident, Thor can only imagine that to call on him was to be close to fatal injury.

As he crosses a patch of bushes and turns the bend in the path, he sees Sif standing over Loki, her fist bloody and Loki flat on the ground, blood dripping from his nose and mouth.

"Sif! What happened!" Thor shouts at his friend, running to his brother's side.

"He had me following his little tricks for ten minutes!" Sif says, pointing accusingly at Loki. "He shouldn't be allowed to use those! It's cheating!"

"So you struck him?" Thor yells, wheeling to look at Sif. "How is that fair? This is but a game! You take this too seriously, Sif!"

"You brother takes it too seriously if he feels the need to cast his little spells!" Sif says angrily.

"Do not strike my brother again!" Thor says threateningly.

"Thor, enough!" Loki says, gripping his brother's shoulder with one hand and wiping his bloody mouth with the other. "I did not call you here to fight my battles."

"Then why did you call me?" Thor asks, turning to look at his brother with confusion. Loki stares at Thor for a second, a confused expression on his own face.

"I know not," He mumbles. "When she hit me, I just yelled your name. Don't ask me why, for I know not the answers. But to have you here arguing with your friend was not my intention."

"Then what was your intention, Loki?" Sif says with a sneer. "Big brother going to save you from the retribution of justice?"

"Lower your hand, Sif, for the only hand of justice will be that which falls upon your future husband, for his misdeeds must have been such if he is to have you for life," Loki seethes.

Sif moves to strike Loki again, but Thor quickly pushes them away from each other.

"Stop it, the both of you! It's just a game!" He says. "Obviously one you two are too invested in, so we won't play it again! Must you ruin things so?"

"It's not the game I have a quarrel with, brother," Loki gives Sif a nasty stare.

"What is that supposed to mean?" Sif asks with an equally dark look. Thor looks over his shoulder to cast his brother a confused expression, for he did not know of Loki's hostilities either.

"Ask your father, or mine, for that matter," Loki says. "Then again, he probably won't tell you, for you are too young to have to worry about such things. I only wish I were so lucky."

"Brother, what are you talking about?" Thor asks quietly, turning towards his brother. Loki glances up and for a reason that Thor cannot possibly imagine, his look grows even more angry.

"Judging by the margins of Sif's parchment, it appears what she dreams of will come true," Loki says with a cruel laugh. Behind Thor, Sif's face grows red and she crosses her arms, looking away from the two brothers.

"Silence, Loki! Damn your silver tongue!" She says with embarrassment. Thor immediately feels intrigued and left out, for so often Loki learns the secrets of others before he does.

"What does he speak of, Sif?" Thor asks, turning to look at his friend with a grin. "Margins of your parchment? What is written there?"

"Nothing!" Sif says, opening her arms as if to suggest she has nothing to hide.

"Only a few drawings to suggest that of her growing admiration for a certain fair-haired boy," Loki laughs, eager to have seen the tables turned. Now it is Sif who flushes with shame.

"Fair haired-?" Thor lets out a good natured laugh. "Why, Sif, do not tell me that you desire our friendship to grow...closer?"

"Bite your tongue, Thor!" Sif says, her face growing even more red.

"I do not blame you if you do," Thor says with a humorous smile. "I must agree, with each passing day, I do grow all the more desirable. Come here and feel the muscles of my upper arm. If you praise me enough, I'll allow you to kiss it."

With a frustrated shriek, Sif storms away from the two cackling brothers. As she leaves, she stalks past Fandral, who casually strolls up carrying the purple flag and a confused expression.

"Did someone abandon the game without telling me?" He asks. "The flag was poorly hidden and unguarded. You two are not as good at this game as you claim."

"Sorry, friend, but the opportunity to play a far better game came our way," Thor chuckles. "Shall we head back?"

As the group follows after Sif for the palace, Thor falls a step back, bringing his brother with him.

"Do you think Sif will recover from our teasing?" Thor asks with concern. "If she harbors feelings for me, it probably wasn't wise to make fun."

"Sif is strong, if that isn't plain to see from my face," Loki says seriously, gesturing to the dried blood caked below his nose and mouth. "Not only in strength but in her attitude. She will be fine as cool water on a hot day come evening. I suspect that I will pay for my jests, nonetheless, should she tell father."

"She won't," Thor promises. "I doubt she wants to relive the embarrassment in the forest. Though I don't know how we'll explain the blood on your face. Unless we harmed each other during our game. Would you like to hit me? I'll give you a free shot."

Loki laughs.

"Nay, brother, I think I will pass. Face wounds bleed easier, but the cuts are slim. If I wash my face, I will look just as fine as before." Loki says. As they pause so that Loki would wash his face in the river, Thor remembers something from their earlier conversation.

"Loki, what did you mean by the quarrel you have with Sif's affections?" Thor asks. "And what did you mean that her dreams concerning me would come true? You know I think her only as a friend."

"Oh, I know," Loki says with a slight smile. "But I really shouldn't say. I'd hate the spoil the surprise for you."

Thor can't help but hear the malice in his younger brother's voice, something that would have gone unnoticed by anyone but him.

"Surprise? Oh, I do not like surprises. Not in this case. Is father hiding something from me?" Thor asks and Loki shrugs, but he casts his eyes away so Thor won't see the angry expression.

"I know nothing," He says. "I merely wanted to see a rise from Sif. I had seen her writing poetry at breakfast this morning and I saw the perfect opportunity to poke fun at her expense."

"She was writing poetry? About me?" Thor asks, his face turning pink.

"Oh, I did not know the muse of her poetry." Loki laughs. "But I did believe she would get angry if I suggested it was you. I didn't expect her to confirm it, however. I would have believed her had she denied it."

With this, they share a laugh before they hear Fandral calling for them.


	3. Chapter 3

He dreams of the color yellow. Yellow like the buttercups and the sunshine. Yellow like the color of wheat. He's running through fields of it, his arms out and feeling the wheat beneath his hands. Then the ground begins to rumble beneath his feet and suddenly he is falling into a dark abyss and someone is screaming his name.

Loki wakes with a start, kicking out and arms reaching out to grip his sheets. A hand smothers the scream that was about to emerge from his mouth and Loki looks over to find Thor casting him a strange look. Slightly calmed, Loki lies back in bed as Thor crawls in next to him. The older boy has bags under his eyes, a token from the flurry of activities due to the birthday festivities earlier that day, but Thor wears a grin as though the thought of sleep hadn't occurred to him.

"What is it, Thor?" Loki asks, his voice raspy from sleep. "It is the middle of the night, and I was dreaming!"

"You should thank me for waking you, for you were whimpering in your sleep. Was a beast chasing you in your dreams?" Thor asks, moving in close to share the same pillow as Loki.

"No," Loki responds quietly. "No, I was dreaming about falling."

"Hm, those are bad dreams," Thor agrees. "But I always seem to have the ones about beasts chasing me. They charge toward me, and I cannot move to fight back or retreat. I'm just frozen. It's a terrifying feeling."

"I can imagine," Loki says. "But why did you wake me?"

"I was in my chambers, admiring the many gifts I received today," Thor says. "When I noticed that I had not received a present from you. Why is this, brother? Have I angered you in some way?"

Loki laughs, turning to lie on his side so that he would face his brother. Thor's hair, golden and fine and growing longer each day, fans out over the pillow and tickles at Loki's cheek. It carries the smell of daisies and grass in the sunshine. For this, Loki won't move.

"Of course you haven't angered me," Loki says with a grin. Thor's face scrunches up in confusion, for he cannot find any other reason that Loki would not present him with a gift on his tenth birthday. "I wanted to wait to give you your present so that it might not cast a shadow over the ones already received."

"Is it that good?" Thor asks, a smile of disbelief crossing his features.

"I believe so," Loki says quietly, a flicker of doubt filling him. "At least, I hope you find it to be, for it took much time and effort to create."

Thor sits up, unable to contain his excitement.

"Show me!" He pleads.

"Very well!" Loki laughs. "Come on, out of the bed."

The two brothers scramble out from under the covers, standing on the smooth wooden floor. Loki crosses to the chest of drawers opposite his bed, opening the top drawing and reaching within. Thor stands near the bed, watching his younger brother with growing anticipation.

"I hope it works," Loki says, turning to reveal a small flat stone lying in the palm of his hand. "I haven't the chance to experiment properly."

Thor's expression grows quite befuddled as he watches Loki place the stone on the floor between them. He watches, waiting, staring at the stone with growing bewilderment. Loki stands a few feet across from his older brother, watching him.

"Is this all it does, brother?" Thor hesitantly asks, afraid to hurt his brother's feelings.

"Don't be absurd," Loki chuckles. "I thought it would have been plain in your eyes that you must touch it."

"Touch it?" Thor asks, arching an eyebrow at his brother. Loki nods.

"Very deliberately, with your thumb, in the center," He says, pressing his thumb into his palm to demonstrate. Thor kneels, holding out his right hand before pausing and looking up at his brother.

"Does it matter which thumb?" Thor asks. Loki thinks for a minute and then raises his shoulders slightly.

"I suppose we will find out," He replies. Thor nods slightly, and reaches out, pressing his thumb into the rock. For a moment, he feels like he's been doused in cold water and he reels back, angrily mutter. For sure Loki had cast a prank of a spell. How like his trickster little brother to give him a rock that splashes him with water! But then Thor opens his eyes and finds he isn't wet at all. He gasps at the sight he sees.

He finds himself standing in a clearing, surrounded by blossoming trees, soft grass, a multitude of wild flowers. Sun shies brightly in the clear sky above and he can faintly hear the calls of birds within the trees around him. It isn't until he looks ahead and sees a clear blue pond, filled with water lillies and other blooms floating within, that he realizes just where he is.

"Is this the clearing...?" His voice trails off as he looks at his surroundings with wonderment.

"That Father took us to when we were younger, yes." Loki says with a pleased grin. He had hoped dearly that the spell would work and that Thor would be pleased with the gift.

"How did you travel us here? Does the rock act as a sort of vessel?" Thor asks, falling to his knees and touching the nearest wildflower. "I did not know that your magic could do such a thing."

"Well, it cannot," Loki says, stammering slightly. "You see, brother, we aren't in the actual meadow that Father took us to. What you are seeing is my memory of that place and the way my magic has manipulated our surroundings into taking the appearance of it. None of this is real. It's but an illusion."

"It cannot be an illusion!" Thor says with disbelief. "I can feel the sun on my face, the grass under my feet! How is it all but fiction?"

"It is simply the floor pretending to be grass and the air pretending to be warmed by the sun," Loki says. The way he says it suggests that it should all be so simple, but Thor cannot wrap his head around it. It all feels too real.

"And this is from your mind?" He asks. Loki nods.

"I cast every detail I could remember into the stone, along with a bit of my magic. When you, and only you, touch the stone, you will be able to see the memory," He explains.

"Can't you see it?" Thor asks, looking up at his brother, who appears to be standing in the meadow just as Thor is.

"Of course. It is my memory and my magic, after all," Loki says. "But the spell was designed to respond to you. Therefore, only you and I will be able to experience it."

Thor laughs slightly, leaning forward and inhaling the sweet scent of the wildflower. It smells just like a wildflower should. It is all so real! Thor laughs once more.

"Brother, this is incredible!" He says and Loki turns pink with his pleasure at Thor's praise. "How long did it take you to create this?"

"Oh," Loki sighs, running his hand through his hair. "So many hours. I had to find the spell in the library, and recall every detail about this place. So many things could have gone wrong, and since it only responds to your touch, I could not be sure it would even work until now!"

"Well, it worked magnificantly." Thor says, smiling up at his brother. "One of the best gifts I've received. Well worth the wait."

"You're welcome," Loki says, but something about what Thor said bothers him and he can't figure out what it is.

"How long with the spell last?" Thor says, lying back in the grass.

"Well, it has a piece of my memory and a piece of my magic," Loki muses. "I suppose as long as I live, the spell shall as well."

"That is very good," Thor says, shutting his eyes and savoring the feel of the sunshine on his skin.

Loki moves and lies next to his brother, looking up at the blue sky above.

"Dearest brother," He starts. "What did you mean by 'one of the bests gifts you've received'? If this one doesn't surpass them all, then I can't help but feel that I've done something wrong."

Loki turns his head to look at his brother and is mildly surprised to find that Thor's cheeks have reddened.

"Sif did bestow upon me a most magical gift of her own," Thor softly said. Loki raised his eyebrows.

"I did not realize that her shield was a magical gift," He says in a sarcastic voice and Thor laughs.

"It is a good shield," Thor says. "But as she was leaving, she pulled me into the courtyard and kissed me softly upon the lips. I found it to be most lovely."

"Days ago you had said that you felt for her only as a comrade," Loki says, narrowing his eyes. There was a knot forming in his chest and for the likes of him, he couldn't figure out why. "She kisses you and suddenly you've developed fondness?"

"I don't know about fondness, brother," Thor says with a soft smile. "I enjoyed her lips and I find her hair to be soft and smell of lilac. She is strong in our games, will probably be strong in battle someday."

"Do you want to marry her?" Loki says in a snide voice. Thor casts his brother an alarmed expression.

"I don't want to marry anyone!" He says in a horrified voice. "I want to be free to roam the realms forever! To fight as men do and to see many things. I cannot live this way if I am bound to a woman, even one as adventurous as Sif."

"You will be married one day," Loki says in a low voice.

"That is many, many years ahead. I've not yet to worry about that until I am a man," Thor says, crossing his arms over his chest. "Even then, I have a choice in the matter. I could choose not to marry."

Suddenly, the anger that Loki has felt over the secret he's kept vanishes, only to be replaced with the deepest sorrow. So clueless Thor was to the traditions of royals. If he would stop playing his games in the forest and listen to the whispers between his father and mother, he would be aware.

"Thor," Loki says gently. "Thor, you know that isn't true."

"What do you mean?" Thor asks, looking over at his brother.

"You are the firstborn son. The duty to further the royal lineage falls on you," Loki says. "I've heard Father speaking, to many people, about who's hand you will be taking once you are a man."

There is a long dreadful moment when Thor just stares at Loki. Finally, the dark haired brother's words seemed to register and Thor frowns deeply.

"Sif," He says. "I am to be married to Sif, aren't I?"

"Her father and ours shook hands over it a month ago," Loki quietly says. "I heard them in the halls as I was leaving the library."

"That's what you meant. In the forest two days ago. You were angry with Sif because I am to be married to her." There seemed to be a thunderstorm of thoughts hiding in Thor's eyes. "This is poor news to be had. Do you think she knows?"

Loki shook his head.

"No, I think not. I don't see why our fathers would inform you of the arranged marriage while you are still children. Perhaps they will tell you in a few years." Loki hesitates. "Are you angry with me for telling you this, brother?"

Thor quickly shakes his head.

"No," He answers shortly. "I think it was better to hear it from you first."

"But, you're right, brother," Loki says, hastening to lift Thor's spirits. "Such arrangements are years in the future, when you are a man. You need not worry of such things now."

Thor nods slightly, spreading his arm out to feel the grass underneath his skin as if it brought comfort to him.

As Loki watches his brother, he feels like they are both maturing far faster than either intended. The idea frightens him more than the dream he only just experienced.


	4. Chapter 4

"Brother, what did the mule say to the goose?" Loki's voice seems to echo across the forest trail. He is riding a white horse some feet behind his mother, who rides a chesnut horse, and Thor walks in front of her leading the horse, and Odin rides a horse so dark it seems to have some violet to its shading. It is Loki's fifteenth birthday and he pleaded for a quiet event instead of the usual party and feast. Odin allowed this and now they were all on a three day outing.

"Not another joke!" Thor groans.

"Answer your brother, Thor," Frigga scolds and Thor sighs heavily.

"I know not, Loki." Thor says in a despairingly bored voice. "Please inform me."

"He said nothing, for mules cannot speak!" Loki says with a loud cackle, causing all family members to groan. They had been walking along this trail for three hours and thus had been stuck with Loki's jokes for equal length. First the jokes had been found as amusing, and then only slightly so, but now Thor could hardly bear to hear his brother speak for it meant being subjected to another terrible joke.

"Ah, admittedly not my best one," Loki admits. "But this next one is quite funny, I assure you!"

Thor sighs and rolls his eyes, thankful that his younger brother cannot see. They should be nearing the clearing any moment now, so Loki would have to be busy with helping to set up camp and such.

"How do you cause a baker to cry?" Loki asks.

"Brother, I love you dearly, but if you don't stop talking, then I will force your head in the dirt," Thor says over his shoulder with an irritated bite to his tone.

"Thor..." Frigga says with a warning to her voice and Thor sighs.

"Fine. How do you cause a baker to cry, brother?" Thor says with a roll of his eyes.

"You slaughter his family," Loki replies. There is a brief moment where everyone else widens their eyes, turning to look at the boy.

Odin is the first to laugh, eventually leaning forward to clutch his sides and nearly falling off his horse.

::::

"And that, my sons, is why you would be a fool to try and capture a griffin, no matter how powerful a weapon its talons can make." Odin says, stirring the fire with a large stick. It was sunset, and the small family was gathered around the fire. After arriving at the clearing in the woods, most of the last hour and a half had been spent gathering firewood, setting up the large tent, and collecting water. Now they were huddled around the fire; Thor and Frigga with a blanket draped around their shoulders and Loki kneeling by the fire next to Odin. Loki was perched on the tips of his toes in the most peculiar fashion, as though he were prepared to grow wings and take flight.

"Is there any creature more powerful than that?" Thor asks. His eyes are alight and he is wringing his hands slightly, seemingly imagining that he has a griffin by the feathers of his neck, for what greater advantage could he have than such a powerful creature under his command.

"More powerful in what way?" Odin asks, lifting his brow slightly. "Surely in strength, a griffin would outmatch you, son, but you would also be outmatched by the siren, who—though poor in strength—would render you quite indisposed with their dulcet tones."

"Let us not forget the unicorns, who possess the highest of magical qualities," Frigga offered quietly. At this, both the teenage boys looked at her with fervor.

"Unicorns?" Thor said, his eyes brightening with interest, whereas Loki's seemed to grow with the knowledge of everything that he knew of unicorns. He had read every book in the library he could find; the unicorns possessed so many magical properties that to see even one would be a gift in and of itself.

"Oh, yes, brother." Loki said. "Unicorns are indeed the most magical of beings, even more so than the most gifted sorcerer. You see, nearly everything about a unicorn has magical properties. It's hair, its blood, its horn. Why, even its tail hair is nearly indestructible. One would use the hairs to tie knots that wouldn't break or could be used to repair damaged chain mail."

"Really?" Thor asks, his eyes glazing over with the possibilities.

"Of course, now it is almost impossible to find a unicorn," Odin says. "They've been hunted into near extinction and now it is extremely forbidden to hunt them."

"For good reason," Frigga says with a frown. "They are the most gentle and innocent of creatures, as well. Never hurt a soul, they would, and they've spent the last goodness knows how many centuries trying to hide from us."

"Only an imbecile would go looking for one now," Odin grumbles, stirring the fire once more. "Because they're so innocent, other creatures—stronger, deadlier kinds—have become a kind of guardian of them."

"What do you mean?" Thor asks, narrowing his eyes.

"Let us just say that if you were to stumble upon a unicorn, it would be wise to turn and run away as fast as you could." Odin says gravely.

::::

Loki is lying awake, his eyes focused on the plethora of stars up above. He hears someone stir next to him and he looks over, seeing that his brother is also awake.

"Can you not sleep?" Loki asks in a hushed tone so that he won't wake his parents sleeping in their tent.

"Nay," Thor says, sitting up and throwing another log on the fire. Loki watches him with a frown on his face.

"What troubles you?" He asks.

"Nothing, really. It is just...well, I cannot stop thinking about unicorns." Thor casts a look over at his younger brother, seeming to be slightly embarrassed. Loki, however, sits up and grins at him.

"Fascinating beasts, aren't they?" Loki asks and Thor immediately smiles widely in agreement.

"Is it true that their tail hair is nearly indestructible? That a knot you tie with them would be impossible to break?" He asks with a tad of skepticism. Loki nods quickly.

"Yes, I have read it in several books. Of course, their horns have more magic to them, though. As weapons or to be crushed into a fine powder to be used in potions and medicines." Loki says. "I remember reading in our histories that the first unicorn horn was combined with mead and cured our people of the Rotten Plague. That is why it is tradition to have it with our supper and at celebrations; to drink to good health. Of course, we don't use actual crushed unicorn horn in our mead anymore."

"Of course," Thor agrees and then looks up at the starry sky, thoughtful. "Ah, but to have a unicorn. Any one of those things would be of great use for our family. But just to think...a hair that is indestructible. Why, you could use that as a weapon, could you not?"

Loki nods.

"I wish I had one. I could think of a hundred different uses for it," Thor crosses his hands behind his head, lying back down in the grass. After a moment, his eyes shut and he falls asleep with a small smile on his face.

::::::

Loki had been practicing, but not for this purpose.

Shape-shifting is a hard craft to master but Loki had been studying very intently. He was sure he could complete it without draining himself too much. As he quietly moved away from the sleeping camp, he could feel his bones humming with the anticipation. Once a decent distance away, Loki carefully stripped down and moved farther into the woods.

He crouched down, beginning to whisper the ancient words to invoke the magic within him. Growing up, he had to concentrate extremely hard and often due more to stir up and heat the magic running through his veins. But now he only had to whisper the words and someday he would only need to think them.

He was surprised by how exceedingly painful it was. He hadn't quite anticipated that, for it wasn't as though his bones were actually shifting and merging to take a new shape. It was merely the air around him putting on a very thick layer of magic, tricking both himself and anyone around him to believe in the form he wanted to appear as. Though Loki had shape-shifted into other people and even dogs, it wasn't nearly as painful as shape-shifting into a full sized unicorn.

Once the process was complete, Loki stretched his muscles. Though it wasn't real, it was hard to convince himself of this. He took a few minutes to scuff at the ground with his hooves and smell the air. Then he began searching.

It really shouldn't have been so hard to find a unicorn, because Loki's scent would have been easy to carry into the wind and unicorns traditionally flock together. A unicorn should have been drawn to him. But Loki had been walking in the woods for two hours now and still nothing.

He walked through a bundle of fruit bushes and found himself in a clearing. There, drinking water from a stream, was a pure white unicorn. Loki almost backed up before he realized what it was. It was alone, drinking quite peacefully.

Almost holding his breath, Loki cautiously approached the unicorn. Though he had read extensively on the creatures, he had no idea how they interacted with each other because they avoided contact from his kind, making it impossible to study them. The unicorn sniffed suddenly and looked over at Loki. He paused, watching. Wondering if it would run away. It just stared at him for a moment and then went back to drinking the water. Loki let out a breath he wasn't aware he was holding before slowly trotting up next to it.

As he leaned down and took a drink of the water, he was aware of the magic this creature was radiating. It was pressing into his side like an anvil. Carefully, Loki backed up and circled around the unicorn. He just needed one hair for Thor. That was all. He would just take the hair and run for it. He wanted nothing else from the creature.

But as Loki leaned forward, ready to grasp the white tail hair with his teeth, a sudden shriek came down from above. At once, Loki felt a sharp stabbing into his back and agony consumed him. His magic left him with a flourish and he became his original form once more, screaming as whatever stabbed him continue to attack him viciously.

"Fiend!" A shrill voice screamed. "Vile, insolent creature of filth!"

Loki was picked up several feet off the ground and shoved back into the dirt once more. He could feel the blood streaming down his back as though someone were pouring a bucket of hot water on him. All he could see was the color red, even when he closed his eyes. He could feel the creatures claws ripping through the flesh of his back, taste the pain in his mouth. He screamed so hard he thought his throat might split open.

"Dare you to steal from the innocent? To hunt from the gentle? To kill the young!" The raw bellowing continued. "To what do you wish to achieve with the stolen goods, sorcerer! Answer me!"

Loki was lifted off the ground before slammed back into it, choking on dirt and blood.

"Nothing!" He finally managed to gasp out, sobbing with fear and pain. "Nothing! I meant to give it-"

"To a lover? Sinful rotten hellbeast! Consumed with lust, you destroy everything in your path!" The claws dug in deeper, and Loki felt bile rising up his throat. "Just as your fathers did before you! And their fathers before them!"

"No! Please!" Loki screamed but whatever the creature was, it showed no mercy.

"The bloodshed will never end! You will always be selfish; you will always be cruel!"

Loki dug his nails into the dirt, scrambling to get away.

"You are still young, so I will spare your life," The creature hissed, though Loki was sure he was going to die any second. "But this curse I place unto your soul: You will kill your lover. The darkness inside your soul will consume you and you will take their life!"

Images of Thor's golden hair flashed through Loki's mind and he shook his head fiercely, shrieking in terror. "No!" He screamed. "Please, no!"

There was a sudden screech and Loki felt the claws removed from his back, leaving him open and bleeding on the ground. The pain was still growing, consuming. Like a thousand birds eating away at his insides. He gagged from the pain and began slowly dragging himself across the ground because his legs seemed to have failed him. But he heard a familiar whisper and then something was gently lifting him before he was laid gently across a horse. Someone cupped his face and Loki blearily opened his eyes, finding his mother staring at him with fear and concern.

"We had a treaty."

Though he could hear his father's voice, he heard it in a way that one faintly hears the wind late at night. Father was a great distance away, and though pain was all Loki could feel and think about, he struggled to hear more.

"I protect the innocent."

"The boy was innocent," Odin said with anger.

"I do not consider any creature that will harm precious beings to pursue their lustful causes one of innocence-"

"No, please!" Thor's voice faintly rang out. "He was not pursuing the unicorn for lust. We were speaking of them earlier this evening and I had told him how badly I wanted a unicorn hair. I had no cause to believe he would have pursued one, though! His intentions were pure! I am his brother."

There was a beat of silence.

"All the same." The scratchy voice of the creature continued. "I have punished the boy by placing a curse on him."

"Can you take it back?" Odin asked and there was a harsh steeliness in his voice.

"It is in his blood. I cannot remove it." The creature didn't sound terribly upset by this. "He will merely have to deal with the affects as he reaches maturity."

"So be it," Odin finally said. "Come, we must take him to a healer at once."

As the horse turned, Loki was able to catch a glimpse of his attacker. It was a large griffin seated on top of a rock, looking most disapprovingly at Loki. Right before his view was obscured by the trees, the griffin took flight and Loki could see his own blood on the creatures claws.


	5. Chapter 5

Due to the wounds and the resulting infection that a curse can cause, Loki was commanded to his chambers for nearly two full moon cycles. Often he had to lie on his stomach, because the wounds on his back often blistered and burned even as they healed. Sweet Mother tried to find remedies to soothe the pain, but to no avail. Curses often burn through remedies like a flame does to a candle wick, rendering them useless. So it was that Loki often spent his days with pain and misery to accompany him. It was only when cool and damp rags were placed onto his back that the pain tempered down enough for him to have very light slumbers, though they were often tainted with nightmares of the griffin's claws in his back.

Loki only expressed his pain only once to his Father. Odin immediately glared down at the boy and merely grunted, "You challenged a griffin, you buffoon. You claim to be a master of books but you walked into that forest with an empty head. Nay, a head full of hot air! Your pain is your punishment and even if there was a remedy, I'd rather you feel the torment of your injuries so you could better understand the fate I saved you from."

Loki never complained of pain after that.

The rare moments of solace came from Thor. Often, mostly during the night, the older brother would lightly sneak into the younger's room with the magic stone he had received for his birthday, curling up with Loki in the bed and activating the magic within the rock. There, they would lie in the field and speak softly to each other. Thor was caring, carefully wetting towels to put on Loki's back and often brushing his little brother's hair.

Even though it was just an illusion and Loki was never actually leaving his room, the imagined field and the company of his brother did much to lift his spirits. These nights were the high point of Loki's months of bed rest.

When he was finally permitted to rise, he found himself weak. His legs shook like a young colt's from disuse. Volstagg fashioned him a cane, though Loki was loathe to use it. Without it, however, he would grow faint if he stood or walked for too long unaided. Stairs, which had once shown no challenge to the Aesir, became something Loki was highly reluctant to use and he would often have to sit down halfway because he grew so dizzy.

The griffin's claws had left many long jagged scars in his back, which seemed a couple degrees warmer than the rest of his skin. After much consultation in the library, Loki learned that the ugly scars covering him from the top of his shoulders to just above his buttocks would always be there. There was no remedy, ointment, or spell that would remove the marks from his skin.

"Do not fret, little brother," Thor had tried to cheer him up. "Scars are a thing to be proud of. Dare you think Father is ashamed of the patch over his eye?"

"Father received the wound from glorious battle," Loki muttered, his head on the table as he nimbly moved a coin between his fingers, practicing his dexterity. "I received my scars from foolishly chasing after an innocent creature. There is no pride to be had."

"You have a willful mind, Loki," Thor retorted, leaning forward and grabbing the coin from Loki's fingers and attempting to make it dance on his own. It fell to the table with a clatter and Thor contented himself with making it spin. "You can come up with a much better story for your scars, one that boasts of nobility and perhaps even greater glory."

"You permit me to lie?" Loki asked, slightly astounded at his brother's suggestion. Normally, Thor was steadfast against Loki's slips of the tongue. Then again, the only one who usually benefited from the lies were Loki. "Is the eldest Odinson telling me to spread lies?"

"I am not telling you not to," Thor shrugged. "Take from that what you may."

Loki steals his coin back, pondering his brothers words.

Though his family knows there is a curse in his blood placed upon him by the griffin, Loki has told no one what it entails. Odin asked, but only once.

"Will it kill you, this curse?" He had asked. "Rot your blood from the inside? Or perhaps it will affect our family? Our kingdom?"

Loki, who had been confined to bed at the time and suffering a terrible fever from his injuries, merely shook his head. Memory of the griffin's shriek filled his mind: _"But this curse I place unto your soul: You will _kill _your lover. The darkness inside your soul will consume you and you will take their life!"_

"Nay," He had told his Father. "It will affect none but me."

But Loki had already started to lie to himself about the curse; surely it couldn't apply to him, for the griffin had an extreme misunderstanding of the situation when he laid the curse upon his blood. He said that he would kill his lover, but Loki had no lover. He was attempting to steal the unicorn hair for his dear Thor, and they most certainly weren't lovers! Perhaps the curse simply wouldn't take. If it did, Loki could never bring himself to slaughter his beloved brother. He would rather die than let it happen.

Yes, he vowed to himself. If he ever felt the presence of this curse in his adulthood and if he could not keep it under control, he would simply have to take his own life. There was no other option. Perhaps there was a nobility in that, even.

When three weeks had passed and Loki still remained weak from his wounds, Sif had sought him out in the library.

"You cannot stay in here forever," She said quietly, sitting at the table beside him. Loki regarded his friend coolly. With Loki so weak, he couldn't keep up with his brother any longer. Thor would spend many afternoons by his brother's side, but he had often been seeking out the company of their other friends, namely Sif. Loki tried not to begrudge her of this too much, because she was quite lovely indeed and a steadfast friend as well.

She was two years older than Loki and a year older than Thor. She was becoming quite beautiful as she approached maturity. Her hair fell in long thick waves and her eyes seemed to blaze with a fire hidden deep inside her. She had grown taller, and woman's curve were present quite visibly on her body. Loki could not deny that he didn't appreciate her as a man often appreciates a woman, but the knowledge of her and Thor's arranged marriage often put a damper on their friendship.

"Surely I can," Loki murmured. "I can become a true master of words with the knowledge from these books."

"Your magic is impressive, Loki," Sif conceded. "But what good will a sorcerer do in battle if he cannot make the march to the field without becoming faint?"

Loki shot her a look and Sif merely gave him a pitying smile for both knew it to be true.

"I assume you are here to present another option for me?" Loki asked. Sif nodded.

"As you know, I am to begin the Warriors Crucible on the next full moon," She said and Loki nodded.

The Warriors Crucible was the extremely challenging training seminar given to the children of nobility. It builds their strength, endurance, and state of mind as they earn their titles and ranks for upcoming battle. Among the skills being taught was archery, swordsmanship, javelin, survival skills, horseback riding, and—though without nearly as much focus as the others—magic. The Warriors Crucible was one of the most grueling rites of passage a noble could go through, but its rewards were exemplary. Sif was breaking tradition (or perhaps creating a new one) for she was to be the first female noble to enter in the Crucible.

Much scandal had been caused by this and though many, including Sif's parents, tried to talk her out of it, she remained steadfast in her decision to become a warrior. It was a choice that earned much respect, despite the whispers about her that passed in the halls.

"I advise that you enter as well," Sif said softly and Loki felt himself go tense.

"You know I cannot," He said with a pain in his chest. "The griffin has broken me. I would be able to complete the magic portion, but I would die even attempting the others. Die or have the others laugh me out and only my shame to accompany me."

"Loki, by refusing to even try you have broken yourself. No one would laugh at you, dear friend. They would applaud your bravery at entering. If anyone dared to let a taunt pass their lips, just show them your scars and they will fall silent, I assure you." Sif pleaded.

"I would kill myself from attempting any of the feats they require of me. It would be far less painful and embarrassing if I simply took a dagger to my own throat. If I am even strong enough to slice it." Loki bitterly whispered.

"It is called the Warriors Crucible, Loki. Not the Warriors execution. The trainers are designed to build you up, not destroy you. They would know your limits, Loki. They would not try to exceed them to the point where you are caused shame or undue injury." Sif explained. "The crucible takes place over three moon cycles, Loki, and you cannot disagree that it would be the quickest way for you to regain your strength as long as you showed the proper commitment."

"Aye," Loki reluctantly agreed, searching his mind for a proper rebuttal, though none come.

"You will do it?" Sif asked.

"I don't suppose there's no reason not to..." Loki slowly said and Sif stood up abruptly, a radiant smile on her face.

"Good, for I have already put your name in!" She said proudly. "I cannot wait to fight alongside you, my dear friend!"

With another quick smile, she walked swiftly out of the library leaving Loki sitting dumbstruck at the table.

::::::::::

Loki was carefully navigating the stairs to his bedchambers when he heard familiar footsteps racing toward him. He turned just in time to be picked up and thrown over Thor's shoulder.

"Dear Brother!" Thor said in his loud, booming voice. "Sif has told me you entered in the Warrior's Crucible! What a marvelous surprise!"

Loki rolled his eyes as he watched the stairs pass them by as Thor swiftly carried him up the steps.

"It was a thought-"

"A lovely thought! I only wish I was the one who thought of it first!" Thor said, but there was a smile in his voice. They reached the top of the stairs and Thor gently set Loki back on the ground.

"What if I shame myself or fail?" Loki asks softly, leaning on his cane. "I am afraid, brother." Thor frowns.

"Do not be," he whispers. "I will be with you."


End file.
